Forever Yours
by loki-god-of-sexiness
Summary: Since they were small children, Thor and Loki have always been close. Through the trials of a well-meaning, yet scheming, Odin a knowing Frigga, and the awkward conversations that come when telling your mortal friends that you're sort of sleeping with your brother, they somehow make it.
1. Chapter 1

When Thor stands on the edge of the cradle, small, chubby hands gripping the railing as he stares down at this squirming _thing_, he can't help but frown before slowly reaching out his finger to poke at the child's forehead in a curiosity only befitting the now oldest prince of Asgard. Apparently, Mother had said it was called a "Loki", and this Loki happens to have soft skin and bright green eyes full of that same curiosity, and a look of horror at the giant blonde boy leaning over him. Of course, Thor doesn't stop to think that he might frighten it, instead ignoring the cries echoing in his parent's chambers as he grasps one small hand in his own to stop the flailing. A cool breeze fills the room, the curtains fluttering slightly with every gust, and a toothy grin stretches the boy's mouth. He likes this brother person, he decides as the crying stops and instead Loki coos, his grip on Thor's thumb tightening. That is, until Loki reaches up with his free hand to tug on Thor's blonde hair that is currently hanging over the two of them like a curtain (Mother said he should get it cut; Thor threw a tantrum), the strands becoming a tangle mess as the small child yanks on his hair with a giggle, his little feet kicking the air as if they couldn't possibly rest on the small mattress. With a yell, eyes brimming with tears though he will later deny it, he releases Loki's hand to pry his fingers apart and jump off the cradle, his small cape he insists on wearing fluttering in the wind in the process. He wipes at his eyes, glaring at the once more wailing child.

"Stupid," he pauses to sniff as the last of his tears were dried away, "little baby," the young prince decides as Loki continues to cry. Eventually, the noise draws Frigga from her much needed break away from her children, abandoning her weaving where it sat, and she scolds her oldest son before picking Loki up from his bed and pressing him against her chest, humming a soothing lullaby.

Once the blue-eyed boy realizes he is no longer needed, he leaves back to his chambers with a sour look that causes even the most audacious of servants to glance away as their young prince who will one day be king makes his way to his room. As best as a child his age can, he slams his door before crawling onto his bed to glower at the ceiling for a good ten minutes or so before boredom and restlessness kick in. His curtains are thrown wide, the midday sun shining brightly across his marble floor, the warm afternoon calling to his every bone. Though it is probably his imagination, he thinks the sun is shining on his toy army scattered around the room in different attack positions. Ceasing his pouting, he tumbles gracelessly to the ground before crawling over to pick them up and play with them. They've just returned from war with the Frost Giants, but there was a bigger, more pressing threat of some made up villain trying to take over the realms. It is a story he likes to play, and has been doing so for weeks, and it is far better than the annoying thing in another wing of the palace. How his mother and father can coo over such an atrocious being, he doesn't yet know, but soon Loki is gone from his mind as he gets lost in his game of pretend. One day, Thor knows, he will be just as great as his wooden toys, if not better. Soon he'll get his wooden sword to practice with, and then he can play pretend for _real_, and not just with large sticks found on the forest floor. Though he'll have to find a new princess, because the last time he had tried to coax Sif into doing so, she had thrown her stick at him, nearly taking out an eye as she stomped away with her arms crossed and her head held high. Perhaps he can order one of the servant girls to play with them, but he knows Mother would only tell him how it was rude to misuse his power and that he shouldn't force people to be friends with him but earn it.

Just as the plot thickens, the hero stepping in to sacrifice himself for the good of Yggdrasil, there's a soft knock at his door, and Thor's head snaps to it, the soldiers stilling in his hands. Without waiting for an answering call, Frigga pushes into his room, the small bundle tucked securely against her side. His mood is officially ruined, and returning to his pouting, he throws the toys down harshly, turning from her to glare at the floor and cross his arms across his lap. It's not fair. This was supposed to be _his _game, and he doesn't want either his mother or supposed brother to ruin it by ranting at him about morals and being a good little boy.

"Go away," he commands, trying to say so quietly but not suited for such things even now.

Frigga simply sighs, shutting the door behind her and coming to sit next to the petulant god. Thor only turns further away from her, staring at the wall, toys completely abandoned on the floor next to him, moving his arms to his chest. The blonde never signed up for a brother, and he doesn't _want _one. Especially one that cries and pulls his hair. Wasn't he enough? Shouldn't they prefer him over something that screamed and wailed at odd hours of night? Who didn't need constant care that took away attention from everything and everyone else?

"Thor, you have caused your brother to be upset. You know that small children do not understand the concept of right and wrong, but _you_ do." The queen sends him a look once she has his attention once more, and the gaze makes him look down at his lap in guilt. His mother always has a way of doing that. He knows Loki cannot do much else than gurgle happily, cry, and only just learned how to crawl. For months, Thor hasn't gotten much of a chance to explore this new addition to their family, and when he finally did, it ended in a sore head.

"I'm sorry, Mother. Please don't make me stop seeing Fandral and Sif again," he nearly begs, turning to look at her again. The last time he had been in trouble, that had been his punishment, and he was far from happy to return to it again. "I'll play with him, I promise! And I won't yell either, or… or yank his hands away, or any of those stupid things I did." Thor hopes he can keep that promise, but he'll just have to find out later, when and if he winds up with nothing more than his rooms for entertainment. At another look from Frigga, he sighs and turns to Loki, scooting forward until his nose was close enough to almost touch the small one's cheek. He ignores the hand that immediately shoots up for his hair, besides the hiss that escapes his lips at the pain, and looks at him with as much sincerity as he could. "And I am sorry, little Loki. I did not mean to frighten you." He smiles broadly, placing a soft kiss to his forehead as his mother did, before leaning back again.

His actions make Mother's eyes crinkle with her smile as she bends down to kiss her eldest son on the top of his head. "Thank you, dear. Tread carefully not to hut him. He is your brother and your responsibility. Protect him; not harm him." She seems to be thinking of something else entirely, like it's more important than Thor thinks it really is, but he still nods enthusiastically.

"I promise. But can he play with me? Maybe he can defeat the dark lord!" Thor exclaims, a grin stretching at his lips. Chuckling, Frigga places Loki gently on the floor next to his brother, and after a moment of trying to recall how, he begins to crawl towards his brother before plopping himself down in front of the blonde. He picks up one of the toys, seeming to study it for a moment, before dropping it shamelessly to the ground. Thor resists the urge to shout at him and tuck all of his toys away before Loki destroys them all. He barely notices that the child is no longer an it in his mind, instead his little brother who he had sworn to protect. Now, Thor doesn't quite know what that means, but he's certain that if Mother mentioned it, then it _had_ to be something good and important. Probably polite as well, knowing her. With a small, hopefully inaudible, sigh, the older son picks up his favorite warrior and presents it to Loki.

"Here," he says with a smile, though there is mild loss in his words, "you can have it." Of course, Loki doesn't understand words very well yet, but he seems to get the idea, taking the toy to… stick it in his mouth. Thor is left with his mouth hanging open in distress. Oh, having a brother is going to be _hard._

* * *

He doesn't mind it so much when three months later; Loki's first words are his name, if he can decipher it between the mispronunciations of an infant. Thor beams down at him for it, and Loki only smiles with his few teeth and continues to repeat his name until their father comes in and raises a brow at the two, shooing Thor off to bed. Perhaps he can get used to this.

* * *

"They are awfully close, are they not?" Odin asks one evening, he and his wife sitting out in the gardens, taking a break from both duties as parents and rulers of Asgard.

Frigga turns to him with a small hum of acknowledgement. "Indeed they are, husband mine." The name has been a teasing one since they had first been married and Odin simply couldn't get enough of announcing that fact in nearly every conversation. As soon as she had brought it up, he only continued on only with more ridiculous pet names, and even now, centuries later, they cannot find it in themselves to stop. "As brothers should be." It is obvious that Thor loves his baby brother, even if he makes it known how much he dislikes the lack of attention that came along with him. Loki, on the other hand, positively adores Thor, having started to cry whenever he had to leave the other boy. Thor would look worried that he had upset him again, glancing worriedly at Frigga, before assuring him he would be back later, and he wasn't going to be gone _forever_.

"Aye," the All-Father agrees, nodding his head as he lifted his cup of mead to his lips. For a moment, he seems lost in thought, almost cautious about what he is about to say. "…our relations with Jotunheim would certainly benefit from a marriage if-"

Frigga cuts him off with a pointed glare. "Do not start talking about our sons as if they are pieces of some chess game. They are _brothers_, Odin. Whether they turn out to be more remains to be seen, but they are s_mall children_. Don't go about getting deluded ideas in your head again. They never turn out well for anyone."

Odin looks as if he is about to make some argument against that, but shuts his mouth in a resigned matter at the look his queen is giving him. A risen brow and pursed lips, a sure sign that if he says another word, she will be making use of the chambers that had been gifted her when they were first betrothed. She is right, he admits to himself begrudgingly, for the boys are still so young. Yet, he knows that were Asgard and Jotunheim to be brought together by the union of the realms' two princes, it would end much conflict between the two races. He shakes the thought from his mind, before it festers and he finds himself finding ways to make such a thing happen, and returns to talking about the affairs of the kingdom, and just how Frigga is fairing in all of this mess involving raising yet another child.


	2. Chapter 2

Snow covers the ground, a frost clinging to every surface it can find hidden away from the light, and the streets of Asgard have dulled to a minimal roar. Families sit inside their warm home, gathered around a fireplace and telling stories of old to eager ears and minds of children. Even those who have heard them a hundred times over, roll their eyes fondly at the obviously dramatized events, encouraging the tales where they could for their younger siblings. Only a few souls brave the harsh winds, and one of them happens to be the oldest prince, Thor.

As it is, the boy is standing behind a pillar in the courtyard, breath fogging, and a grin tugging at his lips as he waits for his little brother to come close to where he is hiding. He is bundled from head to toe; his now much shorter hair tucked underneath the hood of the cloak wrapped around his shoulders, woolen boots tugged to his knees, and gloves his mother made slipped over his hands. For once, he didn't complain about the layers, because only last winter he had fallen ill from trying to rid himself of the clothing that seemingly suffocated him. Of course, it still does so, but he doesn't really care much anymore, because it makes his chest ache in this odd, foreign way when he sees Loki's eyes fill with tears as they certainly had when he had presumed Thor to be dying. Bringing his gloved hand to rub some warmth into his bright red nose, his grin turns into a feral one as his younger brother abandons his attempts at a snow castle ("_That's for _sand, _Loki, you're being ridiculous."_) and moves to a patch of green in the blinding white, gazing with a curiosity and understanding beyond his years at the small bit of life that manages to weather through the cold. Unfortunately for Loki, it happens to be close to where the blonde boy is currently staking out.

Being careful not to let the snow crunch obnoxiously under his boots, Thor creeps forward until he is crouching behind his brother who continues to watch a cockroach traveling around in the dirt and snow. Just as Loki begins to shift, recognizing that there is a presence behind him and not feeling comforted by the fact, Thor lets out a roar, hands darting down to grab at the smaller boy's sides and tickle relentlessly. Loki shrieks, trying to wriggle away from the offending fingers, but to no avail.

Thor continues to make unintelligible growls and snarls, though the effect is ruined by the laughter that seems to be infectious.

"Come on, Loki! I'm a _monster_, you're supposed to _fight_ me!" his voice has dropped as much as it can before one truly becomes a man, the childish pitch still evident though he really is trying his best to sound like the warriors he overhears at feasts and celebrations.

"Oh yes, brother, you're so terrifying!" Loki giggles out; humoring his older brother, knowing Thor would never honestly hurt him. Even if he was young, he knew enough to tell at least that much. His brother was someone that was to protect him, or so their mother had said. Still, he tries to free himself from his grasp, as tears start to form at the corners of his eyes from the laughter and the horrid sensation.

Finally, after Loki pleads a few more times, Thor releases him. The younger god slumps forward, laughter trailing off as he brings tiny fists to wipe at the wetness on his cheeks. Thor drops back, his hands holding him up while he rests in the snow, knowing he will be berated for it later but not caring at all in the moment. The grin is still clinging to his lips, even as Loki looks over his shoulder to scowl at him.

"You're mean, Thor," he states with the certainty of a child who still sees things in black and white, with no grays in between, and a pout.

"I did not hurt you, now did I?" Thor retorts with a raised brow, though a hint of genuine concern creeps into his words. Loki quickly shakes his head.

"No, but I still dislike it…" the small boy trails off, moving around to face his brother, a smirk of his own growing on his lips. Without much warning, he tackles Thor to the ground in retaliation.

Thor lets out a shout, though he could easily push Loki off of himself and win this skirmish, but instead pretends to push at the boy's arms in a false attempt at escape. His parents had done the same with him when he was small, the warriors did it with him now when he tried, and he thought it must be big brother duties to return the favor. Later, when the dark haired boy isn't so fragile, he will be certain to beat him nearly every time, though he knew Loki would probably manage a few times.

"Ha! You're not so scary now, are you?" Loki is beaming from his perch atop Thor. The blonde finds himself trying not to smile. With a sigh, he shakes his head, sniffing at the cold, though he is sure Loki will think it because of his victory.

"Brother, you have beaten me. Now, perhaps you might let me up?" He looks up at Loki with pleading eyes that he knows works on everyone, from how visiting dignitaries and others gush about that same look and how _adorable _the two princes are. With a small huff of protest, the younger brother returns to his sour look before standing up with a huff.

"Thor," he whines, crossing his arms, "that's not fair." The blonde smiles warmly, picking himself up and dusting the snow off of his cloak.

"Would you allow me to make it up you?" Thor asks, tilting his head to the side. Loki seems to consider that for a moment before nodding and motioning for his older brother to turn around. It's a habit they've gotten into since the smaller boy had only learned how to walk. Whenever he would stumble or cry, Thor would sigh and pick him up, placing his arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. Already, he was strong for his age, and although he did struggle a bit under his weight, it wasn't enough to be much of a discomfort. So with a shake of his head and a laugh, the young prince allows his brother to clamber up on his back, until Thor can loop his arms under Loki's knees and the younger can rest his chin atop a recently freed mop of blonde hair.

"Onward, horse," his small voice commands, and Thor can practically hear the grin that stretches his brother's lips.

Obedient as ever to Loki's whims, Thor starts running, Loki gripping tighter as laughter bubbles from his mouth unbidden. It's time for lunch (he can tell by the rumbling of his stomach that nearly distracts him into dropping the small form resting on his back), and so he heads back into the palace. The young trickster's grip is tight around his brother's neck, and though Thor is petrified that he might drop the other boy on accident, Loki has no such fears, secure in the knowledge that the older prince would never bring him harm. Thor hopes he can keep it that way, and is probably holding onto Loki's legs a bit too tight, but if he notices, Loki doesn't say anything of it.

Once they reach the dining hall, noblemen and servants scattered about while boisterous laughter rings through the air, Thor places the thin boy next to their mother. Loki impishly hangs on to his neck as he tries to set him down, laughing the whole time. When he finally releases his grip, it's only to place a childish kiss to Thor's cheek, still laughing as if he cannot stop.

"Thank you, horsie," he says, giggling at his own joke before turning around to scoot closer to Frigga and peer cautiously at the plate of food she puts before him. Thor smile is wide as he reaches a hand out to ruffle his younger brother's hair, which causes Loki to make a noise of protest and slap at his wrist.

"Any day, my prince." The eldest prince gives a bow to the smiling boy.

Waving to their mother, he turns from the two of them in search of his friends. He finds them easily enough, sitting away in some corner, all three of them listening intently as an older warrior tells of an adventure in Muspelheim and raging wars of the past. None of them bother to notice that the man is hardly that, a rather round looking youth with brilliantly red hair only just entering manhood. He's older, and they believe what he has to say, for surely he cannot be lying about such things. Thor eagerly joins them in their listening, and while he munches absently at a chicken leg, he catches that the man's name is Volstagg, and he thinks the name rather suits him.

After their food is cleared away, Volstagg agrees that he will train them when the summer months return, and it is not so bone chilling cold outside the palace walls. The three children give four excited grins before practically bolting from the table to wreck havoc inside the palace walls.

For hours, the group of child warriors-to-be runs about the castle, having a grand time. At one point, they decide to play hide and seek. Hogun is the first seeker and they barely have time to hide before he is there, a small smirk playing at his lips as he stares them into submission. When they come out with a defeated sigh, he breaks out into laughter and convinces them to join him on his hunt for the others. Once they're all found, and cursing their usually reserved friend for it, Thor is chosen to be the next one to find them, as he was the first to be caught. Forever will he curse his terrible skills in secrecy. This goes on for hours more. It ends with a rather unfortunate incident where Sif hid in a basket filled with dirtied clothing, hears a servant coming to collect it and mistakes it for Fandral, and scares the poor woman into falling to the ground with a hand over her heart. The four of them gather sheepishly around her later to apologize by instruction of the All Mother, and if it were not impolite in front of the prince, one might have said she was glaring at them.

By the time Thor crawls into his bed and shoos Frigga away with a scowl, insisting he is too old for bedtime stories, he is positively exhausted. Whether it was the game or the apology that took his energy, he isn't sure, and frankly doesn't care as he buries himself under the warm furs and closes his eyes.

In what feels like moments, there is a warm weight curled by him, and he wakes with a jump and a confused expression. The older boy relaxes when he sees bright green eyes staring up at him, but the confusion doesn't lessen. He rubs at his eyes with a yawn before settling back down onto the sheets, Loki automatically scooting closer. There are a few moments of silence, before Thor's eyebrows draw together and he pushes at his brother's shoulder.

"Loki, what exactly are you doing?"

"Sleeping," comes the easy reply, though the words sound tired and the younger prince's eyelids are drooping already.

"Yes, you are. But you know, you have a bed too. Right over there, if I remember correctly," Thor counters with a raised brow, looking down at Loki who looks rather content to be taking up his space. Loki shrugs, fully closing his eyes and tucking his head beneath Thor's chin.

"I was cold. You aren't cold. And I missed you today. It was _boring_." Loki pouts before curling his arm around Thor and pulling the blanket over himself until there is hardly any left for his brother.

Thor is not in the mood for this conversation. The young prince would only insist that it was somehow Thor's fault for wanting to spend time with his friends. Their mother, admittedly, was not the most entertaining for a small child, but he's certain someone could at least _pretend _to befriend the other boy. But their parents always seem protective of him, and he wouldn't doubt they had threatened anyone who tried. Those thoughts are brief in his tired mind, and he sighs, before settling again with his body crowding protectively around his brother. Well, he supposes his parents had their reasons, and far be it from him to abandon them.

"Good night, then, but only this one time. Then I'm kicking you out." Loki says nothing, burrowing further against his chest, and he thinks maybe he's asleep already.

When the nursemaid that usually wakes the boys up reports to Frigga how it was far too adorable to disturb them, a smile tugs at the queen's lips before she gives an understanding nod and goes off herself to rise them. Later, when she gushes to her husband about positively _cute_ it was to see their sons getting along so well, he looks nearly hopeful before she rolls her eyes and lightly smacks him upside the head. Odin quickly puts his hands up in surrender, muttering something about blind women who wouldn't see an opportunity if it came and knocked them off their feet. She tilts her head with a raised brow and he goes back to his book with a shake of his head.

After a while, Thor's words become senseless, as it becomes a habit and soon he finds the presence of his little brother a comforting one. It seems to appease Loki, who no longer complains when the older god spends time with his friends, and instead occupies his time trying to learn how to read his favorite books Mother reads to him. In a few years, he'll be ready for a tutor, and he wants to be prepared. It's a situation that works well for the both of them, yet as they grow older and their differences become more pronounced, Loki slowly slips back into his own bed, which is now in a completely separate set of rooms.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Omfg guys I'm so sorry this took forever to get out. Six months huh? I blame writers block and rl issues. I promise it won't take as long next time, but you have every right to throw me hate. That being said, enjoy! Comments and critiques are much appreciated.**

Thor and Loki sit side by side in the palace library while the "wizened" tutor drones on about the history of Alfheim. Her words mean little to the princes for two very different reasons. Thor, for one, has no care for them. He sees no point in burying your nose in the past when the present was what matter most. Loki, on the other hand, has already learned of the history of all the realms and the whisperings of beyond in his own time. His attention is turned elsewhere, thoughts unknown to Thor flitting through his mind. His brother is still so young, but yet the eldest son cannot fathom the look of concentration on his features.

The day is a warm one and both boys are stripped down to the bare essentials meant to keep them modest. Despite their mother's protest- which Thor just smirks at as he remembers the same complaints from years ago- Loki's longer hair is tied up to keep the heat from his neck. For some reason, Frigga hadn't protested _that_ too much, instead looking worried, but Thor pays it no mind, passing it off on her motherly instincts.

Thor nudges the smaller boy, leaning his head against Loki's so he can whisper, "Come on, brother. Let us spar. This lesson bores me. I doubt she will even notice our absence." Their attendance doesn't seem to be what she concerns herself with. Instead, the gray haired woman gives the impression that she very much enjoys the tones of her own voice.

Loki looks up from where he has been gazing out the window, preoccupied with a nest of birds that give him distraction from hearing rehashed tales, raising his brows before grinning broadly as Thor's words catch up to him. "We think too much alike," is all he says before he is gripping Thor's wrist and hiding them in a cloud of green smoke. He jumps to his feet, pulling the blond after him as he sprints for the library doors. As of yet he lacks the skill to bend shadows to his will, but he is one for tricks and illusions even now. Thor enjoys his tricks, especially when they get him out of tiresome lessons.

They are both laughing by the time they make it to the hall, Loki giggling uncontrollably. Indeed, he nearly falls to the floor from his laughter, but Thor steadies him. Though it does little to help when he is still laughing in small bursts himself.

"Ooh, Loki! You have probably shocked the poor old hag into her death bed!" That only seems to make the small mischief maker giggle even more.

"Think of it, brother. We would no longer have need to suffer through endlessly boring lessons. Ah, what a freeing life that would be." Loki is finally settling down, sighing as he rubs at his aching sides. Thor is grinning as he slaps his little brother on the back, causing him to stumble a bit. By now, he is strong enough for the eldest prince to push around a bit more, though he still bears in mind his promise from ages that evade his memory. But the queen has made sure he does not forget his vow.

"Oh, surely you cannot be so harsh, brother. At least she keeps you from having excessive amounts of fun." It doesn't work well at convincing the small boy and he merely shrugs.

"It would hardly be my fault if her heart failed to prove strong enough to withstand a simple parlor trick." But Thor hopes his brother will never _really_ plan on her demise. Despite her flaws, she is a kind and a respected tutor throughout Asgard.

"Now what did you say of sparring?" he questions excitedly, the energy from his amusement now obviously on this.

Thor smiles, reaching out to ruffle Loki's hair, much to the boy's displeasure as his nose wrinkles and he bats his hand away.

"I said you are coming with me whether you like it or not." Loki only has a moment to process that before Thor is pushing him through the corridor. The smaller boy's feet drag on the marble, making an unattractive squeaking noise in the process.

"I can walk by myself!" he snaps as he firmly stamps his leather sandal on the floor, bringing them to a stop. Thor stumbles behind him, nearly knocking them both over. He has half a mind to just hoist him up and force him to go, but the other wants to apologize. Thor settles for stepping back and giving him an apologetic look Loki can't see.

"I know, I know. Just have mind to go quicker. Sif and Fandral are waiting." He does not see Loki's face fall, but he does see the sudden sag of his small, delicate shoulders. He says nothing as he takes off running, setting a pace Thor thinks a the large Midgardian cat he's heard of (cheetah, was it?) would struggle to keep up. Understandably, he has a harder time of it as he sprints after Loki, his name resting on his tongue and filtering through the air the whole way.

On the run, Thor nearly knocks over at least three servants, give or take a few, and he is in too much of a hurry to catch up with Loki to apologize. When he finally does stop for a breath of air, it is by Loki who is waiting by the door leading outside to the sparring ring. He looks over at Thor with a grin as he enters.

"And here you proclaimed _me_ slow. If you went any slower, a snail might bypass you." His words are obviously teasing, but Thor just grins wider.

"Slow I may be, but do not presume that means you can beat me in the ring. It would be your downfall, little one."

Loki scowls at him. "We shall see about that, _large_ one." His last words are accompinied by a hard poke to Thor's gut. Thor winces, shoving at his hand while he watches a group of older boys sparring to their hearts' content. They are the ones that will soon see battle, and Thor envies them of the stories they will have to tell and the glory that comes with them. He and his companions have only just been allowed to hold steel made swords. Loki is, for all intents and purposes, not even in training yet. He was given the option between juggling the responsibilities of both magic and weapons training. Not wanting to learn less of each subject in a shorter amount of time, as he explained to both Odin and Thor, he opted for learning the art of sorcery first. Personally, Thor sees no problem with his brother's choice. Others, however...

Thor shakes himself away from his troublesome thoughts, earning a curious look from his brother, and starts walking out onto the grass covered earth. There are lighter footsteps behind him and he has to smile at the boy still following him around like he did when they were children. Admittedly, it is somewhat of a comfort to know that Loki would be loathe to part from him.

Once they reach the field, Thor circles the racks bearing weapons; two fingers firmly holding his chin as he tries to make his decision on which weapon he will use to plummel his baby brother today. He smirks as he picks up a sword. It is not a sharp one. Indeed, it had been magically altered not to cut even the softest of skin. But if wielded by the right pair of hands, it can still leave one panting for breath in the dirt.

Swinging the weapon confidently in his hand, he turns to Loki again with a grin in place. "Make your choice, brother. Be certain it is not too valuable as it will be broken in half before our session is through," he teases.

Loki gives him another _look_, one that for the life of him Thor can never decipher, and pointedly places his hands behind his back. "I need no weapon to leave you begging for my mercy."

Thor arches a brow but walks backwards into the ring with a cocky tilt of his lips nevertheless, into a different section than where the others are training. Loki walks calmly after, going to stand on the other side of the ring, his sandals leaving small imprints in the dirt as his hands start to glow green, a tangible energy melting off of his pale skin.

There is an acute lack of nerves at the sight, and Thor simply cocks his head to the side in expectantly. For a few moments, the only sound drifting through the air is the clang of swords in the distance while the brothers stare at one another.

Loki is the first one to make a move, thrusting his arm forward to fire a ball of green energy towards Thor. The elder ducks in time for it to go sailing by his head and hit the viewing stands. He dares not turn his head to get an idea of the damage done, keeping his eyes on Loki with a lessened confidence and a heightened determination.

He is the next to lunge at the laughing trickster, aiming his sword for Loki's shoulder. It falls through air, his brother having sidestepped to avoid being hit. For the next few swings, they either miss or do little harm. Until Loki tricks him into falling face first into the dirt. Before Thor gathers his wits again, Loki aims for his back and this time the energy hits exactly where he plans it to. The loss of breath and the blooming at being struck by something unknown is unexpected and Thor gasps in pain. Something feels wet on his back and a sharp intake of breath warns him something is wrong before the world fades to black.

*****  
When Queen Frigga hears word of the injury, there is no man, woman, or anything in between that can stop her from seeing him. Her pace is brisk through the halls and servants shy away from her as her skirts fly behind her in a mirror of her fluttering heart. The Queen of the Nine Realms has little to fear. Her eyes don't bat at wars or threats of assassination. Her life could be in peril and she will simply call out the offender's stupidity until they leave her be. But when it comes to her sons, there is a fear so deep it nearly worries her. She would give her life to protect them. And now, there was little she can do but sit by her eldest's bedside.

She sweeps into the infirmary and the nurse steps aside and out of the room so she can get a view of her son. Or rather, sons. Loki is standing by his brother, trying to pretend that his eyes aren't swollen red and his cheeks lack tear tracks. He fails miserably, and it is then that any anger she felt for him putting Thor in this state vanishes. Her second son looks just as terrified as she is, if not more. Heartbreak is written in his watery green in eyes and before he can even register her presence, she is wrapping him up in an embrace. After a moment, she feels him turn his head into her chest and curl his arms around her waist. His grip is tight around her middle to the point where she feels she might suffocate, but that is not her concern.

"I didn't mean for this, Mother. I- I would never try to..." he trails off, his voice muffled by his mother's dress.

She shushes him, placing a gentle hand on inky hair. "I know, Loki. You need not feel guilt over this." He shakes his head adamantly.

"No, it is my fault. I shouldn't have used that spell. I haven't mastered it yet." There is a pause and a definite sniff before he is pulling back with a fresh smearing of salty tears on his cheeks. His hand raises weakly to wipe at them and Frigga finds it sad that he is trying to hide his emotions in this. "What if I've killed him? Oh gods. Mother, I've killed him. I can't... I didn't mean to." The words repeat until they taste funny on his tongue as he falls back into her arms. She tries to soothe him while watching for any sign of wakefulness in Thor.

*****  
Four days later when Thor wakes is when she knows. When Loki is the first sight he opens to and her youngest practically flings himself into his brother's arms, whispering apologies until Thor manages to tell him to shut up rather bluntly. When Thor pays her no mind for a good twenty minutes, instead holding onto Loki in a state of confusion; she knows. What she sees in their eyes is the same light she knows are in hers when she looks at her husband and king. They are young yet and it makes her eyebrows knit together, but it is as apparent as the suns rising in the east that her sons are destined for each other.


End file.
